I Am Plague

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

I fell asleep. When I woke up, my clock read three in the morning.  

It was almost too perfect.

I sat up, shaking off the fogginess of sleep, I grabbed my notebooks, and walked over to the door.

The dorm was quiet, the only thing to be heard was the faint beating of my own heart. I opened the door to my bedroom and peeked out. The lights were off, and I assumed Cain was asleep.

God, I hope he was asleep.

I tiptoed over to his bedroom door, and pressed my ear to it, listening if he made any move. I stood against his door for what had to have been at least five minutes. I doubted myself, whether this was a stupid idea, or a really stupid idea.

I decided it was for the greater good, and slowly turned the doorknob.

I waited a few seconds before slipping into the darkness that was his bedroom. I've only ever been into his bedroom once and being in it again wasn't how I expected my second time to be.

Not that I expected my second time to be much.

Cain laid motionless in his bed, and my heart immediately sped up at the sight of him.

God, even while sleeping, he was the most handsome boy I've ever seen. There was something about the stiff awkwardness of him that poked at my heart.

I walked over to his bed as quietly as I could. Gripping the pencil in my hand, I slowly pulled down the blanket that was over his arm, and nearly screamed when I realized he was wearing long sleeves.

Damn it!

Saying a silent prayer for my recklessness, I gripped the hem of his sleeve with two fingers and slowly rose the fabric over his pale, bruised arm. Half the formula was in clear view, as I quickly jotted down each ingredient one-by-one. I made sure to write swiftly, but neatly, in fear that my nerves would make my handwriting undecipherable.

Once I finished writing half the formula, I again grabbed the hem of his sleeve to raise the fabric further above his arm.

I was so close. So damn close.

I had half the formula. I didn't have much time to acknowledge just how brilliant it was, but already, there were chemical mixtures that I would never dream of conjoining.

God, he was an absolute genius.

I had to jerk his sleeve up a few times, which induced my anxiety ten times more.

I wrote down what little more of the formula I could see, and exhaled.

There was more, but I couldn't pull his sleeve up any higher without having to lift his arm up.

I debated whether I should risk it. I knew there couldn't be much more to the formula, right? Should I get up and leave and guess the rest? Or should I finish what I started?

I stared at Cain, his chest barely lifting up and down. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, to feel the warmth of his body.

I tried not to think about how much I wanted to put my lips on his.

Hating myself for my persistence, I gripped the hem of his sleeve for the third time and with my other hand, I lifted his arm up. I was so close. I could see the rest of the formula, as I tried to write it all while holding his arm up.

He grabbed my wrist so quickly I dropped my pencil on the floor in surprise.

Oh, no.

We made eye contact, and he squinted as if he could barely see (which was probably correct), his voice was hoarse. "Ophelia?"